Tamora Pierce - Tempests and Slaughter

Master Cosmas stood and rubbed his hands together. ‘I think it’s time we had lunch. Arram, you may drop the spell and join us.’ He opened the door. Kitchen servants trooped in with all manner of plates and pitchers, setting everything that was needed on a long side table.

Watching the adults, Arram saw he was to take an empty plate and choose whatever appealed to him, then carry it to the main table.

Sebo and the beautiful mage, Dagani, added their own selections to Arram’s plate. He also found himself sitting between the two women at the table. They made certain he ate the greens and the fish they had given him, as well as hummus dip with bread. During the meal, Dagani got him to talk about his family and his normal day. She and Sebo exchanged looks when he admitted that mostly he read or walked in the gardens by himself.

He finally got the courage to ask, ‘What is this about? Will I be dismissed?’

‘Cosmas!’ Dagani called, rapping her spoon on her plate. ‘My dear sir! This poor lad thinks you mean to send him away!’

Arram sank into his chair.

Dagani tugged on his arm. ‘Up,’ she ordered, smiling. ‘You look like a turtle.’

‘Young man, I am sorry,’ Cosmas said when Arram stuck his head over the table. ‘I thought you knew what we were about. I will not send you home – that’s the last place a lad of your talents should be. When you came to us, your Gift was sufficient for the basics, but – for the most part – dormant. Sleeping. Now, however, your body has begun to change. With it, your Gift will unfold. You should have been reexamined before, frankly. We questioned you so thoroughly to see where to place you next.’

Arram groaned. They were going to shift him again ? ‘Sir, that’s the third time in three terms!’

‘Speak to the master with respect,’ Chioké told him severely.

‘Don’t be hard on the boy,’ Dagani chided, her eyes flashing. ‘He has not been taught to expect the extraordinary, as has Ozorne. He doesn’t understand.’ She turned to Arram. ‘Did they tell you, when they moved you ahead these last two terms, that no two young mages grow at the same rate? Just as no two young bodies grow at the same rate—’

Arram nodded. He had noticed it among the older students.

‘It is the same with their Gifts. And Gifts continue to change for years.’

‘As will your mind,’ commented a heavyset, broad-shouldered man with grey-brown eyes and short, tight-curled light brown hair. Unlike the other masters, he had said nothing during the meal, but scribbled in a notebook as he ate. He’d been introduced as Ramasu the healer. ‘Surely you knew you were exceeding the reach of your fellows when you crept into libraries to read books that were not for you.’

Arram gulped. Those eyes were unnerving. ‘But there were parts that I understood, sir.’

‘We shall bring you to the level of those parts that you could not comprehend,’ Master Cosmas said. ‘And there are other students in your position. You will share classes with them. It will be some time before you are ready for the Upper Academy, but with these courses you will feel your curiosity properly challenged.’

‘Out of the new mage classes,’ Sebo began, ‘are your students all to have masters as instructors? That will be a pretty bit of schedule adjustment.’

‘You did load us up royally this term, Cosmas.’ Arram sat upright. Master Lindhall Reed was going to take part in his education? He had seen him before on visits to the menagerie, wandering in and out of the enclosures. Lindhall was a tall, lanky Northerner with reddish-tanned skin, blond hair bleached nearly white by the Carthaki sun, and long, ropy muscles. His blue eyes were large and pale, his mouth wide and expressive. Another student had told Arram the foreigner was brought specially from the North and paid extravagantly by the emperor to oversee menageries in both school and palace.

Now Master Lindhall tucked fresh fruit and vegetables into his robe’s pockets as he continued, ‘I can’t take another student this term. His Imperial Majesty requires that I overhaul the animal enclosures at the arena, gods help me.’ He looked at Arram. ‘And this lad is too young. You know I don’t use anyone younger than seventeen.’

Arram slumped in his chair as Master Cosmas said, ‘Then consider who can instruct him in animal life next term.’ To the others he said, ‘If you have a promising student, see if they can instruct Arram singly or with the others after Midwinter.’

He looked at Arram and smiled. ‘We will sort matters out so you have a more engaging schedule. In the meantime, you must be shifted to quarters better suited to your current status. They’ll be quieter, for one thing.’

Arram looked down to hide a grin. He’d often thought that studying in his dormitory was like studying in a barn, particularly when he was trying to read the more advanced books he slipped out of the library. This was a good thing!

‘Off you go,’ Cosmas said. ‘The servants will come to move your belongings. I should have a new schedule on your door before you leave for supper.’

Arram scrambled to his feet. Not knowing what else to do, he bowed. ‘Yessir, thank you, sir,’ he babbled. ‘Thank you, all of you! I’ll do my very best!’

Sebo caught him at the door. Arram skidded to a stop in front of her. ‘If you please, Arram Draper,’ she said, looking up at him steadily. ‘I believe you have something that belongs to the university.’

‘I would never— ’ he began to protest. Then the copy of Bladwyn’s Book began to jiggle inside his shirt. He had forgotten it was there. He always kept it with him in case his roommate searched his things. ‘Oh.’

‘Indeed,’ she said, her wrinkled face grave. ‘Oh.’

‘I was going to take it back,’ he said hotly.

‘I will relieve you of the chore,’ she replied.

Her full, dark eyes were as ungiving as stones. He sighed and wriggled until he could reach under his undershirt. The book practically leaped into his fingers.

‘I didn’t even get to the best parts,’ he grumbled as he passed it over.

Sebo patted him on the chest. ‘You will one day. Now scat.’

He scatted. He didn’t tell her about the little copybook in his carrybag – the one in which he’d written down several of Bladwyn’s most interesting spells.